I started this blog at 16, and now I’m 20, so we can see the difference then.

I’ve bought an ADHD planner (though the binding had sort of broken, but I’m too impatient to return). It’s really nice other than that. Maybe I’ll hot glue it down.

I want to hide these old embarrassing posts but if I keep it up it’d be cool too, just cause you can see how desperate I was back then. But then ajakfhkjsgh.

What makes this even funnier is that I’d first typed myself as an ENFP. This has all been very sudden and explains nearly everything weird about me. OHHH KNEW I WAS DIFFERENT WHICH MEANS SPECIAL WHICH MEANS I’M SPECIAL what, and the obsessive psychoanalyzing myself until now – I wasn’t even wrong, except with the wondering what the hell was wrong with my motivation. It was never a motivation problem, you don’t cry yourself to sleep at night wondering why you’re not motivated enough to get through a chapter of a subject you actually like and isn’t hard to understand, you know? It’s a focusing problem. So I’m 80% less depressed now. It was an amazing feeling. BUT MY GOD FINDING HELP, JESUS, TOOK ME A MONTH. I felt every rejection and roadbump like a knife. Bad enough I had to ask for it, bblehhh.

So all is good, well is life, on we go. I might add more to this later, lots of things.

So writing with your left hand is hot stuff. I renewed my battle against non-ambidexterity and decided to multitask by learning to write at the same time. Mostly I’ll probably do train-of-thought and go with the flow. But yeah, I’ve found it’s much easier to rhyme, and write (loosely speaking) poetry, with my left hand! Pretty cool stuff. So I’ll post that now.

To send a letter is a good way to go somewhere without moving anything but your heart.

Phyllis Theroux

Because I remember, when I was a little kid I used to write letters. To no body, to unknowns, to myself… Just because I craved writing. Just because my heart ached every time I couldn’t let something out. Every time I go back to my parent’s place, I check them. Plenty, they are. And I laugh… at how terribly cute and innocent they were.

And right now, I still write. Not letters, but blog posts. Because it takes me to a different world, my own perfectly random world where I choose to spill myself, and my emotions.

I’ll still write you letters. In my head. In my heart.
I’ll still send you letters, so subtle. Between the lines.

Beautiful! Look at the post, the second image really is a vast improvement, and I love it’s warmth, and his expression. It’s perfect. I like your face, dude. Not even kidding. That is a nice face. And your hair. K cool. (It’s a self portrait)

I like his description too, hehe. His words are good words. Heyyy, that’s why I follow him after all, good art and words, yeeyup.

Could there be a more fitting title for a self-portrait post?

“Well I Wonder” is the title to a Smith’s song from “Meat is Murder”. Over a darkly breezy tangle of acousitc guitars, tambourine, brushed drums, and rain effects, Morrissey’s voice floats with disjointed phrases of self-obsessed import like, “Well I wonder / if you hear me when I cry,” and, “Please keep me in mind.”

Self-portraits carry with them many of the same dangers as confessional song lyrics. Folks tend to think you’re doing them because you’re self-centered when the truth is that you merely lack the creativity to find anything else more worthwhile to draw/paint/sing about.

The benefits I’ve enumerated before. Primary among them is access.

The portrait below I started a couple of weeks ago when I had some spare time at the studio. However, hunger cut my time there short, and I headed home to make…

“Not recklessly shoving them into a useless chain of over-thinking, but rather stalk them into productive thoughts; into creativity.”

Often what traps me. Trying to force it instead of following it….especially when I am in the moment….and then I need a pen….and everyone around me becomes frustrated. I ask to borrow their brains xD Partly hold this thought, but more like, assist me as I think out loud, follow me into my mind, but of course, they can’t manage that. I love all this though. This entire post is love poetry and lucid perfection. This is a complete thought because it is life and can’t hold the fullness of it’s definition. It’s like it’s own universe. And I completely agree and simultaneously question what it voices. And I’m in love with it and, initially speaking in description but now speaking literally, want to put it on the wall of my mind palace, haha, now that I know such a thing is actually a thing and have created one for myself. I am having trouble….or well…it’s supposed to be a memory cue thing right….Okay, getting off-topic now….

There is a thought growing in my head. Wilder and wilder. I cannot tame, I cannot domesticate. I cannot suppress to fall within the meaningless margins of logic. There are feelings that bounce with every heart beat. Contradictory and controversial. I cannot tone down, I cannot keep inside for too long. I cannot incorporate into the barracks of sense. There is music, playing at the back of my head. Shuffling, with the shuffling of my thoughts and feelings. I cannot pause, I cannot mute. I can only keep it playing, louder and louder…

I think, therefore I am. I feel, therefore I exist.

What are we without the complexity our thoughts impose? What are we without the turmoil of emotions and unexplained feelings we behold? Both are interlinked, our thoughts and feelings. Both collide. Both bounce in ourselves making our existence worth living.

I was told of a herniated disc by the doctor. Laminectomy performed. And the whole gamut.

The lawyer said, I have a good fight and will surely win the case. He also uttered that I must be ready to endure a battle that is ugly. I paused, thought and looked for what is good, in the middle of all the bad things that had happened in the recent past.

That’s when I thought of my mom. She’s always understanding. Forgiving. Patient. Kind. The qualities I tend to forget of having and to showing when confronted up front by issues, people and events that are nonetheless out of my control.

The moment I talked to her, I was told to focus on what is good, staying away from the troubles caused by the doctor. To be well as fast as I could is the most important, mom said.

This is the most amazing blog xD I’m lucky enough to have it following me currently and as of today, and I cannot believe it exists. xD

It reminds me a lot of this person who I used to often talk to on facebook xD The way they talk and what they say. I’m still friends with him (and met him) on facebook (not common for me) through this crazy page/group thing. But he was a bit more ridiculous in how unrestrained and how he approached every topic (extraordinarily irreverently and absolutely shocking) but it’s part of the reason I had so much fun talking to him. Also because we spoke in these long-ass paragraphs, which is rare to find, especially when the topic is also exactly the sort of thing you find interesting. The only thing is that I wasn’t sure if I was weirder because some topics he mentioned I had already found old. Then again he might have found me a bit stiff or prudeish compared to him. If he had become my friend before I’d moved…xD Oh dear. Well, I wouldn’t be as intelligent I think. Not that I’m particularily so now….

Wait. No, back on topic, uggghhhh I swear I couldn’t find a more appropriate blog title xD BUT YES, this blog is hilarious go follow and read his stuff, it’s absolutely amazing.

….and I talk in cliches. xD I AM SO AWARE OF IT BUT WHAT, I CAN’T HELP IT?? OKAY BYE. TOPIC. GO CLICK.

HeyHeyBIO (no -logy)

Hey. Pseudonyms will be used.

Meez - Me. I'm 20, dropped out of university in May 2012, found out I might have ADD around the 2nd week of 2013 after online classes had started (nice!), diagnosed February 8 2013. I'd like to thank God, my cat, and my left foot for trying to give me a hint with the blog title I'd randomly chosen at 16, and apologize for being too damn thick to get it. This is embarassing.